


Have Your Cake and Eat It Too

by minkhollow



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: femslash_kink, F/F, Infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2013-09-16
Packaged: 2018-02-03 13:42:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1746716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minkhollow/pseuds/minkhollow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some days, Hermione hates this whole bloody situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Have Your Cake and Eat It Too

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a femslash_kink prompt: Hermione/Pansy, cheating. Hypothetically epilogue-compliant, though it's set before the kids factor in.
> 
> I am not JKR; I'm just borrowing for fun.

Some days, Hermione hates this whole bloody situation.

There’s a memo that stands out among the rest when she sets to work on Thursday morning; she doesn’t need to open the light green parchment to have a good idea of its contents. At this time in the week, it indicates a long weekend, if not a longer stretch of time – she’s heard rumblings about a recent investigation into some shady potions suppliers that suggest it’ll end up being at least a week. She hates that she knows so much about the schedule of someone she didn’t talk to in school, doesn’t talk to now, and has no professional investment in.

When she opens it, the parchment confirms Hermione’s suspicions. _Theo thinks he’s going to be off on this one for a week and a half at least. Do drop by if you can. –P_

She writes a short reply, and hates that Pansy Parkinson, of all people, became someone she actually enjoys spending time with. She’s not sure if either of them quite know how it happened, other than Pansy getting her head out of her arse after Hogwarts and both of them having niche interests within Magical Law Enforcement that hardly anyone else wants to hear about. Hermione never expected she’d be so fascinated by the hurdles placed before Slytherin alumni simply because of a talking hat’s say-so when they were eleven, but she is, and Pansy is in turn an excellent sounding board for the matter of house elves.

But there’s spending time with someone and then there’s fucking them into the mattress every time their husband’s out of town. She hates that pureblood culture taught Pansy she _had_ to marry, despite her utter lack of interest in doing so, because more pureblood children were more important than whether she would be fulfilled in her love life.

Ron breezes into Hermione’s office over lunch to let her know there’s a rather elaborate sting coming up, and he’s likely to be tied up with it all weekend. She hates that he hasn’t even noticed her affair; she hates that she’s having one in the first place; she hates that she loves Ron so much. If she didn’t, this would be so much easier.

She hates herself for not doing the proper thing and calling it off with Pansy. She hates herself for needing it. She hates the fact that she gets wet every time she thinks about the upcoming weekend. She hates the fact that she wants to fuck Pansy more than she wants to fuck her own husband.

She hates how much she loves this. There’s a thrill in sneaking around – there is, after all, a reason she went along with so many of Harry’s hare-brained ideas in school, and it wasn’t only the fact that he and Ron would have been doomed without her on the Horcrux hunt that saw her going with them. Skiving off to another woman’s house does something to her, makes her feel young in a way she hasn’t since the Triwizard Tournament.

On Friday evening, she stops at home to change – she never feels comfortable visiting with someone in the same clothes she’s sat around her office all day in – and apparates to Pansy’s house. Pansy, or more accurately her house elves (whom she’s assured Hermione are treated with nothing but respect, even if she refuses to try persuading them to take pay), have dinner waiting; it smells delicious. Pansy herself is lounging in the sitting room, pretending to read a book.

“Glad you could make it,” she says. “Dinner first, or would you rather skip to dessert?”

Hermione’s eyes stray to Pansy’s cleavage, but she still says, “Dinner, I think. It’s been a long day and I’d like to... properly savor dessert.” She knows Pansy’s going to taunt her all through the meal (and she’ll hate it, and hate that she loves it), but it’ll be worth it afterward.

Pansy does indeed taunt her, but Hermione gives as good as she gets; by the time they’re done eating, she’s soaked her knickers through, and Pansy’s squirming like she’s barely kept herself from coming.

“Merlin, Hermione, I need you to lick me,” she says; Hermione moans, and is on her knees in front of Pansy’s chair before she thinks to suggest the bedroom. As she’s licking, an invisible hand starts stroking her (how Pansy can keep a clear enough head to cast at a time like this, Hermione has no idea). They climax at nearly the same time, and it isn’t long after that before they do move to the bedroom.

They take turns at setting the pace – they’re both a little too fond of control to relinquish it entirely, but Hermione’s found that Pansy ordering her to stroke herself and beg for release is incredibly hot, and so is turning the tables on her. (She hates that Ron’s never asked if she’d like to do something a little more imaginative in the bedroom; she hates that she doesn’t know how to raise the subject herself without giving this away.) The evening fades into night, and a muddle of pleasure.

(She hates that she got off harder the first time Pansy fucked her than she ever has with Ron.)

On the verge of sleep, she mumbles, “D’you ever think maybe... maybe we shouldn’t do this?”

Pansy laughs, something Hermione feels more than hears. “Don’t tell me you’re losing that famous Gryffindor nerve. You’re still enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”

“Well, yeah. Thought that was obvious.”

“Then let yourself. Having your cake and eating it too isn’t inherently bad.”

She hates how easily she can see Pansy’s logic. But she loves the thrill, and the sex, too much to walk away.


End file.
